Right Here
by Fearfully and Wonderfully Made
Summary: You chose to walk away, but I'm still right here waiting. Samka AU Season 12
1. Chapter 1

_I used to feel you breathe, but now I hardly see you._

He rounded the corner in a rush, disappearing into the drug lock-up in search of anything that may be needed for the trauma. He'd normally send the nurse, but Chuny and Inez were pretty busy calming the Spanish speaking patient and transcending past the requirements that their jobs entailed. He wasn't leaving the nurses to handle the trauma alone, Ray was in there.

He paused in his step, his blood covered gown drifting down to reveal his thin, white t-shirt, before entirely entering the room.

His eyes were frantically moving across the shelves, and at first glance, he hadn't noticed Sam leaning against the counter to the side of the shelves, her head in her hands. His heart tugged in her direction, but his personal persona quickly left him as a heavy wave of a professional relationship reminded him that he shouldn't care. He could hardly see her, let alone recognize her.

He took a step to the side as she looked up, immediately noticing just how embarrassed she was with her cheeks flushed and tearstains on her face. He stepped towards her again, his eyes locked on her defeated frame as he became overwhelmed with what he should do and what he wanted to do. He knew that he should grab the medicine and leave like he'd never seen anything, but he couldn't.

He swallowed a large gulp, annoyed with himself for still caring for her.

"Are you all right?" His voice was grave, deep in his chest and struggling to escape from him, as he reached forward and laid a hand on the shelf. He rested all of his weight against the shelves. He'd lost his mind, speaking to someone that he hardly knew.

"What?" She furrowed her eyebrows, her face contorting in surprise. She didn't expect him to speak to her of all people, let alone without her speaking to him first. She lifted her hands to her face and wiped away the quiet tears, shaking her head. "I'm fine, Luka. Really."

"Sam, I know you," he spoke softly and sighed through his slightly parted lips. He trickled his fingers along the shelf as he warily dragged his other hand through his thick, flowing hair. "You're not fine. Please tell me."

"It's nothing, Luka. It has nothing to do with you," she shook her head, clearly defeated. She could hardly form words above a whisper, her body shaking with each outward breath.

"You always seemed to keep it that way," he narrowed his eyes in her direction. He drew in a deep breath, ignoring the pain in his chest at her physical struggle. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"Why are you doing this, Luka? Quit pretending."

"I've been pretending," he sighed, annoyed with the direction that the conversation had taken. He was annoyed that even after 3 months, he still cared and there was nothing that he could do about it. It hurt him to know that no matter who came into his life it'd still hurt to be that close without being able to reach out touch her. But this time he ignored it all, and he reached out to lightly touch her arm. "I've been pretending that it doesn't hurt."

"Luka," she spoke to him warningly, as she would a child – her child, and she took a step back to escape from his gentle touch. It was hard to let him touch her, if only for a brief second, because she wanted to be with him, no matter how much of a mistake it would be. "We both know that this doesn't work."

"What doesn't work?"

"You. Me. Us," she shook her head, sighing slightly exasperated. She could be mad at him; she could be mad at herself. "We can't do this. It doesn't do us any good. We don't get anywhere."

"I'm not asking for that, Sam," he shook his head, his eyes rolling as he was becoming aggravated with the whole situation. He was beginning to wonder why he even asked her if she was all right; he knew it would lead to an unwanted conversation.

"Then, what are you asking for?" She gave him a once over, shifting her gaze away from him as her eyes glazed over. Her hand rested on her hip as her other one pressed against the counter. She found herself wanting what she'd told herself all along she couldn't have: him.

"I don't know," he sighed, untying the yellow gown and letting it drop to the floor. His t-shirt was tight to his body, and she found herself gawking at him – noting how much weight he'd put on from all of the take out she knew he'd never admit to her that he'd eaten. "I don't know what I'm asking for anymore. If you would have asked me that a few months ago I could tell you, but I don't know the answer to that anymore."

She shrugged, her eyes going back to him with tears threatening to fall. She bit her bottom lip, not knowing what to say. The one thing she did know was that he was different, and not just physically. He was actually letting her in, he was just too late doing it.

"I've made mistakes, Sam. A lot of them-"

"We all make mistakes, Luka," she shook her head to accompany her shrug. She watched him narrow his eyes in her direction, and she reluctantly stepped toward him. "It's what we do best."

"I don't want to keep making the same mistake," he shook his head, stepping forward quickly and catching her tiny waist in his grasp. He looked at her for a solid moment, seeing the confusion in her eyes as he kept his hands on her. He leaned in, beginning to recognize her for the first time in 3 months, and let his lips softly find hers.

It was different than he remembered, but then again he could hardly remember.

He let his hands conform to her waist as he felt her fingertips slowly trickle across the back of his neck. He felt himself lean into her, turning until he couldn't push back anymore. He was lost against her, his lips fused against hers as their tongues were in a battle between right and wrong; until her arms were no longer around his neck but her hands beneath his chin.

He drew out one last breath as he stepped back, dropping his hands from her and dragging a hand through his hair. He looked at her, his eyes meeting hers to find her as equally hurt as he was. They were now both broken and defeated pillars, wanting nothing more than crumble into the other.

She gave him one last lingering look as he reached out to touch her cheek, but she stepped away towards the door. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, his other hand pressed deep into his hip, catching her attention for just a moment more.

"This…"

"I'm sorry," she simply shook her head and stepped out of the room, leaving him alone.

He stepped forward, his anger beginning to fume as he found himself in the exact same place he'd found himself three months before. He balled his fist up, and hit the cage with al of the anger that he had built up within a three month period.

He let things get away from him, and he didn't take a step back until it was far too late.


	2. Chapter 2

Luka walked up the stairs of an apartment building he wouldn't ever recognize if it weren't for the piece of paper with her address jotted down on it. He'd acted desperately and grabbed her address from the employee files, invading in on her space in claim that he needed to give her a box of stuff back. He had known long before that anything she'd left at his apartment she had left there on purpose.

He took in a deep breath, his throat seeming to constrict, as it became dry, before pounding his tightly closed fist against the door. _Apartment 3B_; the apartment number matched the one on the paper, but that almost didn't matter to him. He'd knock on every door to see her – just to talk to her.

And say what?

He couldn't even answer his own questions anymore. He didn't know what he'd say to her when he did see her. He had known at one time exactly what he'd say. Words of anger and words of hurt, but now he didn't have a clue what he'd say to her.

He'd apologize to her for all of the mistakes that he'd made.

He just knew that he wouldn't let things get away from him like he had earlier, because the last thing that he wanted to do was make another mistake with her like he had earlier that day. But he only seemed to make mistakes when it came to her – when it came to loving her.

He shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets, sighing with anticipation before she could possibly even move to open the door. It was hard to talk to her because he was so angry with her, but it was just as hard to talk to her because he knew that he'd taken everything too much, too fast. He hadn't ever planned on moving so fast, and he believed that he only did it because it felt right and natural to be with her.

The door opened and he looked up from the floor with pursed lips and tired eyes. He saw her face as she took a half step back, struggling with her inner thoughts on whether to say something or just close the door. He, too, could feel a struggle of his own: to say the first word or to wait for her to shut the door in his face.

He hesitated again; biting his bottom lip and etching the toe of his boot across the ground in search of a map holding together so tight that its instructions would be infallible.

"Hi...Can I come in?" His voice was quiet and deep in his throat, reluctant to speak in fear that she'd reject everything that he'd tried to tell her. He still loved her, that much was obvious, but he wondered if she still felt the same. He saw her eyebrows furrow under his reluctant gaze as she clutched the door tight in her grasp.

"Why?" Her words were more venomous than she'd intended.

"I just wanted to talk to you about today," he shrugged.

"There's nothing to talk about, Luka. You know that it never does any good," she shook her head, dropping the door and crossing her arms in front of her chest. She was beginning to despise her own words, knowing that it wouldn't do any good if she'd never give it a chance.

"You don't know that, Sam," he sighed, pulling his hands from his pockets and taking a step forward, "you have to give it a chance. You have to…"

"Why, Luka? Why do I have to give it a chance?" She watched him carefully, waiting for his next move or his next word. She didn't know how she could resist her feelings for him so long. They were good together and she knew it.

"Because you don't even know what I'm going to say," he closed his eyes tightly, breathing in a deep breath. He reached out to her, tucking a loose strand of hair floating in her eyes behind her ear, and let his fingertips brush down cheek. He wanted to tell her he still loved her. "I just wanted to say that I was sorry about earlier."

"What about earlier?" She knew what he was talking about. It was the only reason that he'd bother to show up at her door after 3 months. So much happened between them, so much happened within the 3 months that they didn't speak of anything but work, and so much more could happen.

"I'm sorry about the kiss," he pulled his hand back to himself.

"Don't be sorry, Luka. I can't say that I really didn't want it, but I also can't say that it was a good idea," she offered him a smile and a shrug, hoping to elicit a smile from him as well. She reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his coat, pulling him in her apartment behind her.

She could tell that he was speechless when he reached up scratched his temple, quietly stepping into her apartment and looking around. His hands found their way back into his pockets, crushing his lips together and looking at her with wide eyes. She motioned to the couch, offering him to get comfortable.

"Your apartment looks nice," he pulled his hands out of pockets as he sat down, tapping his closed fists on his upper thighs. He noted that it was the same furniture that she'd had before, never realizing that she'd kept it some way. "Is this your old couch?"

"That's not why you came. Why else are you here?" She slowly sat down next to him, glancing at him as she leaned back against the armrest of the couch.

"I told you, Sam. I came to apologize," he sighed, keeping his hands tight to himself. He didn't remember the last time that he was so uncomfortable around her. "I shouldn't have ever…"

"Luka," she said his name gently, reaching over and covering his hand with hers.

"I don't know how to keep doing this, Sam. I keep pretending that I don't care about you and that I never think about you. There hasn't been a time that when I walked by you I haven't thought of stopping, but I haven't ever been able to find the words to say to you," he bit his bottom lip, looking down at her hand over his and reveling in the feeling of her thumb brushing over his hand.

"We broke up because we want different things," she gently reminded him. She felt herself lean toward him, her hand slipping from covering his. "I want a lot, Luka, but I don't want what you want."

"I want you, Sam," he blurted it out without ever thinking about what he was going to say, immediately giving himself a mental kick. He released a ragged breath of air, looking down and playing with his own fingers to focus his mind anything else in the room than her. "I'm sorry; that was inappropriate. It's just, sometimes I miss you so much."

She didn't say anything, it was her turn to be surprised and rendered speechless, she just pulled her hand back from him. He eyed her warily, sending meaningful glances at his fingers, until he leaned forward and tried to search her eyes for something, any kind of feeling. He felt so distanced from her, as though he was stranded on an island over a million miles away.

"Can you say something?"

"No, Luka…I don't know what to say," she looked up at him, her hand buried in her relatively straight hair. She considered what he made her do, what he made her feel, and let her heart tug her towards him. She quickly contemplated on what to do, considering getting up and locking herself in her room. One thing still remained – she still loved him.

She waited foolishly, as though she was still that same high school girl giving into false hopes, for him to lean into her. She didn't know why she stopped to wait for him; a stranger only passes in the heat of the darkened sky. She'd never been afraid to make the first move with him before.

Her hand met the back of his neck the same time that her lips met his. She was overwhelmed with desire, losing her hand in his long, wistful locks as she pushed herself closer to him. She no longer knew how to tell him she still loved him; it had taken her too long to figure out that just because they wanted different thins now doesn't mean they would always want different things.

He moved into action in sync with her chest hitting his, her fingertips lightly brushing across him as they trickled down his sides to stop at the waist of his pants. He breathed in deep knowing that if anything between them were to happen this would be the time, and he moved her hand from his belt buckle to entwine their hands together. All the while, he let his tongue collide with hers to battle out what could become the taste to linger on his lips for years to come.

He was successful at holding one of her hands in his grasp, but her other hand found its way to the lapels of his jacket to push off of his shoulders. He pulled his lips from hers, looking into her eyes in search of encouragement as he tucked his hands into the waist of her jeans.

"Sam…" But his voice trailed off as her lips hitting his in another fiery passion gave him all of the encouragement that he could need.


	3. Chapter 3

It was dark, cold, and snowing outside the window of the small Chicago apartment. Inside the apartment, it had light breezes permeating through the still air to match the shallow breaths in the room. The numbers _02:31_ shone brightly in red through the cut of the street lamp from outside, seeping in through the window.

His forehead felt the crisp winds of the Chicago air through the glass, his eyes drifting from the sullen road to the still body highlighted in the center of the room. He had let her lead him; he let her set the pace. She guided him to the edge and back, leaving him wanting more.

He let his gaze shift back to the street lamp below, glistening the white snow into glamorous beauty as he realized that was one of the things that had made him love Chicago. He settled back into the crook of the window and the wall, closing his eyes to relish in the events that had taken place. Chicago was much like him, forever changing.

He pulled his knees tight to his chest, his thin white t-shirt and boxers not nearly enough to keep him even the slightest bit warm in the chill of the night.

Sam shuffled in the sheets, pulling the comforter high to her chin to gather all of the possible warmth around her. She was hardly used to sleeping alone, but even that it just didn't feel right. She glanced to the other side of the bed, reaching up to rub her eyes and noting that she was alone again for the 92nd straight night.

"Luka," she spoke his name barely audible, almost certain that it was useless to speak his name in an attempt to draw him back to her. She didn't have a clue whether she expected to find him there with her or gone.

He lifted his head from the glass upon hearing his name, looking over at her with pursed lips. He slid his knee away from his chest, standing slowly to his feet to cross the room. Hearing her voice quietly stirred him from his thoughts, bringing his attention to the only thing in the room that he wanted to settle his eyes on.

"Yeah," he said gently, pressing his knee against the edge of the bed while reaching to her and sliding his fingertips over her arm. She turned her head to the direction that his touch came from, almost instantly feeling warmth, or just him. She wasn't even sure anymore.

"I wasn't sure if you'd already left."

"I couldn't," he said softly, shaking his head. He brushed the hair from her face, his fingers quickly returning to her arm. He tapped his fingertips gently against her skin as he moved his hand down her body to entwine their fingers, his hand overlapping hers. "I couldn't leave yet; I couldn't leave you yet."

She laid silently, his arm protectively wrapped around her as they were divulged deep into the sea of blankets covering the bed. Her cold legs entwined his cold leg, her back drowning in the mattress as her hair angelically flowed over the pillow behind her head. She looked up at him, her eyes drifting towards the window and back to him, his cheek blending into the pillow beside hers.

She pursed her lips together, his exhale fluttering across her shoulder and sending her body into a slight wave full of chills.

"What were you thinking about?"

Luka narrowed his eyes at her, trying to think of what he'd actually been thinking about with his head pressed against the window. He could have been thinking of Chicago, the cold winds and the snowy roads. He could have been thinking of work, his colleagues and the friends that he'd acquired there. But if he was honest with her, and himself, he was thinking of her.

He thought about her often, but rarely did he have the chance to tell her that.

"I wasn't thinking about anything," he smiled slightly, his index finger drawing circles on the palm of her hand. He paused for a moment, knowing that he'd been thinking of more than just her; he'd been thinking about him, too. "I was just sitting."

"Luka," she'd done it again; used than warning tone that he was beginning to despise. He had to consider that every time that tone was used he knew to stop, that he was going into territory that she'd rather not venture into and maybe even a territory that he'd rather not be in either. Except this time it wasn't about that, it was about something else. "I know that you were thinking about something."

"It wasn't anything important," he smiled reassuringly. He faltered under her meaningful gaze, the disbelieving look on her face telling him that she really didn't believe him otherwise. He pursed his lips together, preparing himself to speak, when his pager started vibrating from the floor.

He heard her sigh in slight disappointment as he sat up to reach for his pager off of the floor. He glanced at the screen of his pager, biting his bottom lip to hold back a groan of anger when he saw that it was a page from work. He stood up slowly to pull his black slacks on, glancing at her lying on the bed.

"It's work. There was a big crash," he muttered with a sigh, buttoning his pants and pulling up the zipper. He pulled his shirt over his shoulders and fiddled with the bottom button, looking at her through narrowed eyes. He paused, dropping his shirt to reach up and scratch his temple, and he exhaled in slight exasperation. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Huh?" She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, rubbing her eyes again. Her mind caught up to what he was asking her, and she shook her head. "No…They need you at work. Work comes first."

"Right," he agreed reluctantly with a nod of his head. He sighed, beginning to button his shirt again, and he stepped towards her bundled in the blankets on the bed. "It doesn't have to be like that, you know?"

"Don't, Luka," she closed her eyes momentarily, sitting up and holding the blankets tight to her chest to keep her body from being shown to the room. She stopped, silence over taking them while she began tracing the pattern of her comforter. Her slightly drawn out breaths directed his eyes to lock on her.

He dressed in silence, his eyes being torn from her as he bent down to pick up his shoes. He sat on the bed to pull his boots on and to tie them, finding himself more hurt by the fact that she was unwilling to even except his silent pleas. It was almost tearing him apart inside.

Her own pain was knowing that when he walked out of that door it may be the last conversation they have, the last time she felt his arms around her, the last time she felt his hands on her, the last she felt his lips on her. She missed him, and he was still in the same room. She felt like she was full of secrets, keeping them all hidden and locked away.

"Sam," he nearly whispered, sitting upright and glancing back at her while he nervously scratched his forehead. He saw her eyes drift up to him, the glaze in them making his heart wrench, and she clutched the blankets tighter to her chest. "You know how I feel about you. You've always known."

"It doesn't work like that."

"But it does work like that, Sam. That's all it takes for 2 people to be together," he sighed, his palm pressing against his forehead. He didn't know what to say to her anymore, and he was beginning to get angry with himself. He knew that it was useless to say those things to her, but he didn't want to give up all together. "It's useless. Forget I said anything."

"It isn't useless," she gently shook her head, his narrowed gaze piercing through her as he turned his head to look at her. That was almost her invitation, but he passed it up just letting himself look at her and grateful for the chance to do that. "It's just, there's more to it than you and me."

"Sam…"

They looked at each other for a long second, her phone ringing breaking the intense gaze between them. She offered him a smile as he stood up and she answered her phone only to find herself doing the same thing that he was doing. She, too, found herself getting ready to go into work, where she had to face not only him but everyone else she knew.

It was complicated because secrets always seemed to make it that way.


	4. Chapter 4

****At the crack of dawn, Sam found herself dragging to catch a pace up to the other nurses after she'd been jammed the moment she'd gotten there. She had been dumped with loads of work, finding her own nursing ability level elevated. She couldn't see why every time the nursing staff found its stress levels on the high she felt the full effect of it.

It was her job, and the only difference of it was the knowledge that someone else's life depended upon her abilities. Her lifestyle from day to day depended upon it, and that's why her best kept secret was getting ready to flee into the open. It wasn't just about her, but it was about Alex, too.

She pushed the meds quickly into the patient, her own stress finding its release as she pulled the syringe away from the finally still body quickly on its way to surgery. That had been their quickest run of the night, time totaling to _11:14_. She found herself just centimeters away from her Croatian lover, both of them watching the body being rushed away by Dr. Dubanko and his team for surgery preparations, and the sound of the syringe dropping to the floor seemed to ring out throughout the room.

She had to remind herself to keep it together, for the first time they'd found themselves alone together in a room since they'd arrived at the hospital. She glanced at him, turning on her heel to start clearing the room as though she had nothing better to do. She was torn, feeling overly imperfect for loving someone she knew she couldn't.

"We worked well together," his voice treaded along the line of nervousness and gloating. She knew why he sounded nervous; the double meaning of his statement could be taken wrong by anybody, but her. "I mean, that was quick. Eleven minutes and fourteen seconds."

"Yeah, that was quick," she agreed like it was an afterthought, like he was an afterthought. She continued restocking the cabinets and the shelves, putting clean utensils out. She ignored him to her greatest ability, her heart weighing heavy at her secrets that she hadn't quite shared with him. Of all people that should be told, it was him; he was the one that loved her. "We always work well in a trauma."

"We work well in other places too, you know," his voice was hardly suggestive as he stepped towards her, her back facing him while she was leaning against the counter composedly. He sighed in a desperate attempt to collect himself, his hot breath awkwardly hovering across her skin. "What was that to you?"

"Luka," her tone was that warning tone again, but it contained a hint of desperation and pleading as well. Beginning to feel the warmth of his body against her, she was slightly surprised by his bravery and sharply took in a deep breath. "It was never just sex for me, if that's what you think."

"Then why?" His voice was near a whisper as he gently grabbed her elbow, silently asking her to turn and look at him. He soon dropped her elbow, leaving behind all hope, and shoved both of his hands in his pockets.

"Because, Luka," she closed her eyes, turning around and facing him. Opening her eyes, she found herself looking at him just centimeters apart. If she closed her eyes, she could still see his face. "I just wanted to be close to you. I wanted to remember what it would be like to be with you one last time."

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, stepping closer to her until he could almost feel her bones against his.

"What is, uh," his voice trailed off momentarily as he looked down at his shoes. He resisted the temptation to pull his hands from his pockets and force her eyes onto his; even more, he resisted the temptation to pull his hands form his pockets and reach out to touch her. Once again, the next move was hers. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Luka," she sighed deep in the back of her throat, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She hoped to block the pain from hitting her hard in the chest, because she knew that the blow would knock the wind out of her. She was stalling. She didn't want to tell him, especially at work where she'd see the pain that she'd caused him. "Don't do this. Not here."

"I don't see why, Sam. I don't see why we can't just start over, or even slow down," he shook his head, recoiling when she formed the wall of arms between them. He cringed as he seemed to feel himself slipping away from all hope he'd had. He reached out and pressed his palm against the counter behind her, making the moment a bit more awkward.

"Because it doesn't work like that. It can't work like that," she bit her bottom lip, uncrossing her arms and smoothing her hands down his sides. She had the worst timing, letting him in just weeks before she'd no longer… "As much as I wish it did, it doesn't."

"You keep saying that, but I don't understand how it doesn't," he shook his head, his body shivering under her fingertips pressing into his skin. He'd waited for her move, and now he was so totally helpless with her. "If it's about Alex, he and I are friends again. He knows how I feel about you."

"It isn't just about Alex, Luka," she struggled to keep her voice calm and collected, from letting it all go. She seemed to do it to keep herself from letting him go. She was certain about something though, after all of the trouble that they'd put each other through it was no wonder that they weren't together. "It's more complicated."

His eyes traveled with her as she stepped away from him, taking her hands with her, and he was left feeling alone like he'd never been with her before. He looked at her like she was a stranger in the night, and he let her pas by without another word. He was once standing so near that he could hear, feel, her slightest breath, but now he could hardly recognize her.

If she said it was more complicated, he had to trust her when she said so.

"I get it."

"No, I don't think that you do," she turned away from him as her body was surrounded by the boring black and white checkers painted on the floor tiling.

"It's complicated why we can't be together," he shrugged nonchalantly, as though it was no big deal and didn't phase him a bit, but his tall frame was slouching with guilt and deception. He thought that he was fooling everyone to say that he didn't, nor hadn't, cared for her all along but he was the only one being fooled. "It was fun, but that's all it could be. We had fun."

His nonchalant words hit her hard in her chest and nearly knocked her off of her feet, the guilt of telling him what she'd needed to tell him all along being overridden by pain. She herself had been deceived by none the wiser than doctor Luka Kovac, and she felt a fool to see that. She was hurt that his total person had changed towards her within seconds.

She suddenly realized that it was easier for him to act like they'd never existed as one being than for him to be told that it was too complicated to actually be that being.

"Luka…"

"No," his firm voice interrupted her, a wave of his hand cutting her off. He forced a smile as he shoved his other hand in his pocket and he let a slightly tearful gaze stare into her eyes. "Hey, I understand…Completely."

He turned on his heel and made a move towards the double doors out of the trauma room, his palm flat outward to press against the door. He didn't hesitate in his step, his smile didn't falter as though it was clearly painted on, and his tears didn't rise or fall from his vision. He was still in body and in spirit. He'd isolated himself within seconds to convey his truth.

"Luka," her voice made him halt in his step just as his hand came intact with the door, pushing it open for all to see in the small gap, "we're moving to Miami."

His smile slowly dropped from his face. His partly cloudy vision with a slight chance of rain escalated into one hundred percent chances as a tear slid down his cheek. His hand dropped from the path of the swinging door until it came back towards him and downright hit him square in the nose.

He half stepped backward, his hand flying up to his nose. He almost found himself on the floor with the hesitation, but instead the cold feeling of blood dripping over the tops of his fingers forced him to draw his hand away.

The door continued to swing; quick, and then slow, and then slower, and then slower, until it stopped. The passing faces falling nearly agape at the sight of the damaged doctor. _Just how damaged had he become?_

He turned towards her on his heel, tiny droplets of blood splattering down his nose from his forehead as a tiny creek of blood flowed from his nostril. His eyes looked dark, or scorned. He locked his vision on her, almost all feelings fleeing completely from his body while he stuttered for words to come out.

Finally spitting it out, his voice was hoarse as though paved by a gravel rock road.

"What's in Miami?"


	5. Chapter 5

_Miami? _

_What was so fucking special about Miami? _

All she'd told him was that she had to go where the work was, and there'd been plenty of work for her in Chicago for 2 years and running. It was time for her to go on. He'd almost found it unfair that she could move to a different state the way that she was, but then again, that's what she did, wasn't it?

He didn't understand how she could just move on from Chicago and from him, after all, he wasn't moving on – he was staying still. He was, for lack of better words, right there waiting. But Alex had friends, and school, and he had soccer.

And then it hit him, he had to be the last to know of the entire Chicago population.

She'd told Alex's school when she went to withdraw him. She'd told Alex's soccer coach to pull him from the team, and he was surprised that it hadn't slipped to him there. But even more so, everyone at work knew. No one bothered to mention it to him, and it was, hands down, the best kept secret at County General.

He shut his eyes, crossing one ankle over the other and leaning back into the couch with his hands interlocked on his stomach. He'd decided to rest in the lounge rather than attempting to get home after the nights events, including the storm of anger and hurt welling up inside of him. He had almost collected all of himself and thrown it into the river.

He started with the beginning and tore it apart.

----

Sam walked into her apartment; mail clutched in her hand, she tossed her keys onto the center of the kitchen table. The clang of the keys made her jump, and her tired body nearly collapsed to the floor. She was so tired.

She dropped the mail onto the kitchen table before her bag followed quickly behind. She advanced into her apartment, dragging herself into her bedroom and collapsing onto the bed. It took all of her strength to drop her head onto the mattress.

She wanted to sleep, and the bed was calling her name. Although, when she really thought about it, she couldn't get to sleep. The bed still smelled of him, his distinct smell of cologne and aftershave surprisingly mixing perfectly together.

She wanted to feel his arms around her again, and it was tearing her up inside.

She was leaving him, and it hadn't quite hit her that she was leaving him for good. She'd never wanted to leave him, but she didn't think that Alex was okay with their relationship anymore. She'd never wanted to leave him.

_Never_.

The reason she'd stayed at County for so long was that she could keep a distant and watchful eye on him. She hated that she'd fallen in love with someone. She hated it even more because she knew from the very beginning that she couldn't love him.

She closed her eyes tight, inhaling his distinct smell with the silent wish that she could capture it in a bottle to keep with her forever. She'd told him, and her heart had sunk the moment that he turned with tearful eyes. She'd collected all of herself and told him that she was leaving Chicago.

Even while she was breaking his heart, she still loved him.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam heard a muffled voice calling for her from the other room, and it roused her from her deep sleep. Lifting her heavy head form the pillow and rolling over onto her back, she peered out of the hole in the wall where her door would normally be closed but she realized that she had been too tired to even care to close it. She heard the parody of her name again, her eyes shooting open.

"Mom!"

Alex's tiny frame was suddenly circled in the doorway as he lethargically leaned against it, much like Luka always had. She had to do a double take, realizing just how many things Alex had picked up from Luka, including facial expressions, stances, and even the tones of his voice. She was taking Alex away from the only man who'd been there for him the way that a father should have been.

Rousing her voice, it was tired and barely audible.

"Hey, buddy. When'd you get home?"

"What's for lunch?" Alex took the liberty of advancing into her bedroom, and ignoring her question, crawling onto her bed and sitting beside her.

"Lunch? What time is it?" Sam furrowed her eyebrows and rubbed her eyes, glancing passed Alex and having a peek at the digital clock. The numbers shouted loud that it was, in fact, lunch time and it made her inwardly groan. "What do you want for lunch?"

"I don't know," Alex shrugged, peering around her bedroom and noting that there were a few things out of place. He hadn't smelled what his mother smelled on the pillows and sheets, but then again, that was definitely for the best. "What do you want?"

"I want to sleep," she practically pleaded and groaned rolling over and burying her head in her pillow. She inhaled deep, her lungs and nostrils filled with that smell as her body shook, leaving her to come up with a way to forget of him and their few previous hours together. "I'm so tired."

That was when she noticed she was still in her scrubs, and she was still in her shoes. She had been too tired to do anything besides crawl onto her bed and sleep. But she had gone to sleep dreading and despising Miami.

"I thought that you got off last night and didn't have to work again until tonight."

"Yeah, I didn't get much sleep," she sheepishly smiled, rolling onto her back again. She hoped that her son didn't catch the look on her face, and she stared up at the ceiling before sitting up straight. She could picture the look on her son's face. "There was a big accident last night and they called me in."

"Oh," Alex shrugged before jumping off of the bed and rushing towards the kitchen.

"What sounds good?" Sam climbed out of bed and followed his lead into the kitchen, her tired body dragging. A chill swept through her, and she wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm. She narrowed her eyes in her son's direction awaiting his answer as patiently as she could. "Any ideas?"

"Anything you want, Mom," and suddenly, Alex didn't seem right. He seemed troubled, like he'd had the anguish of a lifetime building up within him to fight the world with. Her son was having pangs of jealousy, and it hurt her to recognize that. "It doesn't matter."

She didn't like that she didn't know what to do with him, or how to handle him and his extra sensitive feelings. She knew her son enough to know that he'd never admit to the sensitivity, but she was no longer sure of where his anger was pointed towards. Was it her? Was it Steve? Was it Luka?

"Alex…What's the matter?" She wanted to sit down beside him and draw it out of him like she'd been able to do years ago, but no longer did she feel like she deserved the right. She loved him more than anything and she was sure of that, but she wasn't sure that he knew it anymore.

He could be mad at her. He could even be mad at Steve. But under no circumstances did he have a right to be mad at Luka.

Luka had done nothing but be the father he never had, and maybe that was where the biggest problem was. Luka had done anything but totally disappear from Alex's life. She'd practically begged him to disappear from hers, but he was always welcome into Alex's. And now she was taking that away.

"Nothing," he sighed, feeling his mother's gentle fingertips graze through his hair. He looked up at her, his eyes seeming to pierce through hers and making her wonder when he'd gotten so old. "Can we go out for lunch?"

"Sure."

She gave her son a lingering look as she turned on her heel to make a move to her room. She'd forced him to grow up so fast. She'd forced him to be the man in her life. How was she to deal with knowing that she'd done that to him?

She was the one that had made him wise beyond his years.

"Just let me get changed," she offered him a smile, cutting through the living room. The blinking of the red numbers from the answering machine caught her eye, and she reached out to listen to her messages. She stopped, fidgeting with the material of the blanket along the back of the couch.

"Sam, this is Kerry. I'm sorry to call but we need you to come in. We're short a few hands with this big accident."

Proof for Alex that she'd actually gone into work.

"Sam, this is Kerry again," a sigh, "sorry to call, again, but Luka said he'd talked to you earlier about leaving for Miami. It seems that I just can't let you go without a fight, and I totally agree with him. Give me a call so we can get this all straightened out."

Her eyes shot to Alex.

"You talked to Luka?" Her son's voice was questioning and pleading, had to be a trait from Luka and not his father, as he looked at her with slightly widened eyes.

"It wasn't anything," she shook her head, almost as though she was reassuring her son. She almost felt that she had an obligation to do that, let him know that she wasn't go behind his back and conversing with Luka. Suddenly, she realized that she didn't need to do that for Luka. Alex had no reason to act that way towards Luka. She shrugged. "I just told Luka that we're moving to Miami."

Alex looked away quickly, almost as though he realized that meant it was etched in stone. He almost believed that all of Chicago could know and it wouldn't mean a thing. He thought that telling Luka meant that they were really leaving.

"Look, Alex, it's more than that. Luka's done nothing but be there for you the way that you've always wanted your father to be there for you-."

"I don't care about my father. He lied to me," Alex looked at his mother in disgust at the mention of his father. Luka was his friend; Luka, he cared about; Luka he loved. "Luka never lied to me."

"I have to go in and talk to Dr. Weaver," she sighed, turning and crossing her arms across her chest to lean her hip against the couch. She furrowed her eyebrows, wishing that if anything more Luka would still be there for Alex, mainly. "Why don't you eat some cereal or something so you can go with me?"


	7. Chapter 7

She glanced at him as she walked quickly to the elevator, Alex slowly following her trail, and she noted his appearance. He looked so different from when she'd seen him nearly twelve hours before. Now he had stubble appearing on his chin, and his eyes were dark with the darkened circles around his eyes.

He was tired. He was probably even more tired than she was. He certainly was bestowed upon a responsibility that required him to technically be on call at all times. He was, after all, the chief of the ER staff.

But on her way back down, Alex having disappeared outside to play basketball nearly an hour ago, she didn't just offer him a passing glance. She stared right at him, pursed her lips, and choked on her own breath. Turning her head and looking away from him, she self consciously dragged her hands down the wrinkles in her clothes in an attempt to redirect her attention.

He continued signing all of his charts over, his sleep tugged eyes drifting back to Sam, and he turned on his heel to head to the lounge. He was going home, and he was going to do his best to pretend that he didn't care about the outcome of the discussion that Kerry had with Sam. Although, he would have to find out, as Chief of Staff, he had to know who was working for him.

He walked into the lounge, ignoring the small multitude of people clearing out of the room, and he headed to his locker. Twisting the lock, he shed himself of his white lab coat and hung it haphazardly on the hook. He gathered his things and did more than prepare himself to leave, he also prepared himself to turn and see her there alone on the table.

And when he turned, he took in a deep breath at the sight of her staring into her cup of black coffee.

"Everything all right?" He didn't know how he mustered the courage to ask her considering that he was still nearly a wreck after speaking to her hours before. He pulled his jacket up his shoulders before leaning against the chair. His hands grasped around the top of the chair to keep his balance.

"Huh?" She looked up at him, almost immediately shaking her head. She looked into her coffee again and took a long sip from the steam filled liquid. "I just have a half shift today so I can get Alex home. I didn't really make any alternative plans."

"Okay," he nodded. He squeezed the chair before he patted it, his knee gently knocking against the solid wood of the chair. "Call me if you need anything. You know, help with a trauma."

She nodded as he turned from her, and walked towards the door. His shoe squeaked along the ground as he picked up his pace, closing his eyes momentarily to fight off the rapid urge to turn and give her all of himself. He stopped at the door, his hand firmly set on the handle, and he turned to her.

He took in deep breaths, looking at her with narrowed and hesitant eyes.

"I've been thinking a lot about what you said, about going to Miami, and maybe it isn't the right thing," he paused, advancing closing to her. He reached out to touch her, but instead, he started tracing circles on the table. "I mean, there's more left for you here in Chicago."

"Luka…"

"No, Sam," he sighed deeply, waving his hand in his face to keep her from saying anything until he was finished saying what he wanted, needed rather, to say. She looked up at him, his eyes looking deep into hers, and his long bangs quietly found its way into his eyes. "Just let me…We need you here. We could really use your help, and I'd hate to see you leave. I mean, I'm sure that everyone else would hate to see you leave, but me – especially."

"Luka," she smiled at him amused. She was amused with his words, with his actions, and even the fact that he cared enough to go through all of the trouble of getting Kerry involved. She stood up as he took a step back and leaned against the chair again. "I've gotten a better offer and I'm not going to Miami."

"I don't mean to pry," he smiled, his chin dropping down to his chest as he laughed in all of his honesty, and he locked his eyes on a spot in the center of the table. He bit his bottom lip before he cleared his throat and stood upright. "I need to know, just to be sure who's on my staff and who isn't, are you going to be staying here in Chicago?"

"Kerry fired Eve last night, which is why she called me in, and she couldn't afford to lose me and her so close together. So, she offered me Eve's position," Sam gave him a smile, and quickly looked away as she once again found herself standing so close to him. She took in a deep breath, looking for the strength to turn away from him. If she was staying there, it meant she could still keep a watchful eye on him. "Looks like I'm not going anywhere."

"Well," he gulped down the lob forming in his throat as he turned his body towards her, his hand immediately going to his hip. He found himself standing centimeters away, his bangs barely in his vision as he looked down at her. His lips were slightly parted and his tongue darted out across them, and he gulped down another lump forming in his throat. "That's good to hear."

"Look, Luka," she breathed out softly, her breath trailing across his lips as she reached up and brushed the hair out of his eyes, "don't get me wrong; I would have missed you terribly."

Her fingers threaded through his hair as she brushed it back and out of his eyes, and his eyes focused deep into hers. He reached out and gently touched her elbow, drawing her a bit closer to him as the touch made her catch herself by reaching out with her freehand and touching his stomach with her fingertips. He breathed out, his own breath trailing across her lips scornfully to them both.

"I would have missed you, too," he almost leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers, but he somehow forced himself from the thought, "so much."

He lifted his hand and placed it on her cheek, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. They both breathed out at the same time, the heat between them colliding, and he could almost feel her on his lips. They were too close to deny any motion between them.

"Sam…" he swallowed hard.

He could think of many things that he wanted to say to her.

_I love you. I'm glad you're staying. I want to be with you. _

He didn't think anymore, he just closed his eyes and leaned forward. His lips met hers, and his hands slid down her body to wrap around her waist. He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of her pants, hoping that it wasn't a step further than even she was willing to go.

His lips entangled with hers as she seemed to gently drag her soft fingertips across his rugged jaw line, drawing out a quiet noise from the back of his throat. It was at that moment that he realized he didn't want to let her go in fear that he wouldn't get to hold her again. His thumbs tickled the skin above her waist.

She, reluctantly and hesitantly, pulled her lips from his, remembering in the back of her head that she was supposed to start her shift.

"So," she said quietly as they removed themselves from each other, and she slowly wiped at her face. She glanced around the room awkwardly, and she realized how awkward things between them would and was becoming. "Alex is going to be glad to found out that we don't have to move."

"Yeah…I'd really hate to see him go. He really means a lot to me," Luka spoke quietly, hesitantly, and as though he couldn't think of anything else to say. He reached out and touched her cheek again, letting his thumb brush across her cheekbone for just a moment before he moved passed her. "I'm serious. If there are any problems, I want you to call me."

She watched him walk away, and she was almost angry at herself for just letting him leave. She sighed deep within her, the words that he said to her having linger in her head. _I would have missed you too, so much._

It was almost time when she started to make sense to everyone, almost when she started to make sense to herself.


	8. Chapter 8

Luka woke up in a sweat, the world around him also being drenched by the falling rain pouring into the streets of Chicago. He quickly thanked whoever was out there and listening that it wasn't the time of the year that it was constantly snowing. It would almost be too cold to handle.

Only suddenly did he realize that he was awakened by the shrill ring of his cell phone, and he became instantly aggravated. He groaned, stretching his muscles in a way that they weren't even ready for, while reaching for the phone on the nightstand opposite of him. His body shivered as his bare flesh was met with coolness seeping through the air.

The sun had barely begun to set and he'd had less than 3 hours of sleep, but yet, his phone had already begun the activity of ringing off of the hook. He hoped this wouldn't be an all night event, but it was extremely hard to tell with everything that had been happening lately. The ER could call; Abby could call; Alex could call; and even Sam could call. He wouldn't do it all over again.

"Hello," his voice was sleep laden, and he didn't do a very good job trying to hide it. He rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, his body feeling sticky and humid from the sweat that was enveloped around him, and he awaited the answer from the other end of the phone slightly impatiently.

"Dr. Kovac?"

The voice, the voice was unrecognizable. He couldn't pick the face to the voice in a crowd of one, and he almost felt like an idiot. He knew this much, the voice was that of a man's…That narrowed it down.

"Yeah," he spoke deep into the back of his throat, trying to rack his brain in search of anyone he might know that sounded like the person on the other end of the line. He furrowed his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes as though he was in total disbelief. "Who is this?"

"It's Dr. Wallace," there was a chuckle that carried through the phone line on the other end, and Luka slowly shook his head. He was fighting off sleep, and he was fighting off annoyance. _Did they not have any clocks where he was? _"…The guy about a foot shorter than you with an accent about as heavy as yours."

And suddenly, Luka remembered. His friend who had left Kisangani just days before John had arrived – the doctor who had become one of his closest friends while he was in Africa. Dr. Wallace had been in Africa for 3 years and took his first trip home – to Ireland – and was sure and set to return two months after his departure. Luka had been stuck in a hard place when he'd left, hence, the frantic phone call to John.

"Oh, yes…It's been a while since I've last spoken to you," he seemed to emphasis every word of the English language, just like when he'd first come to Chicago. He always seemed to get a heavier accent when he was in the presence of someone else with a thick accent, not that it was a bad thing. "What has it been? Two years now?"

He pushed himself up into a sitting position with his elbow, and he threw the blanket off of him as he pulled his leg up beneath him.

"Maybe a little more," he then heard another chuckle. He didn't remember Dr. Wallace being so happy, but then again, it was a bit difficult to be happy around all of the turmoil in Africa. Luka remembered Dr. Wallace as one of those who deserved to be happy, a small apartment in his hometown in Ireland, a penthouse in the states somewhere, and a doctor who'd worked his last 5 years of his career without ever getting paid. "Hopefully you're doing well."

"I am, surviving; but barely," he nodded politely, forgetting that he couldn't be seen by the other party involved in the conversation. If he had gotten the phone call 3 months before (or even just a night before), he'd be disturbing another person from sleep, but that he didn't want to think about it so soon after waking up. "You're doing well, also?"

"I'm doing fairly well. Sitting at the airport in Kinshasa waiting for my flight out of here," the man with the thick Irish accent sighed heavily as though he was leaning against a wall. Luka was surprised to hear it, and, furthermore, he was surprised that he _didn't_ hear the roar of the crowd in the background. He knew how packed that airport usually was. "Dr. Carter's sending me home for a few months."

"Heading to Ireland?"

"No, actually; I'm heading to the penthouse."

Dr. Wallace hadn't called in 2 years, he hadn't seen Luka in nearly half a year longer, and Luka was suddenly alarmed by the phone call. _Why wouldn't he head home to Ireland?_

"All that room for just the one person," Luka grinned knowingly, but deep down he was remembering what it was like to share it all with someone else. He missed it, and he was mentally beating himself up about it. "It'll be nice for it to be quiet again."

"I'm a little afraid that I won't get to sleep without all of the explosions to lull me. Two years later and it's bound to hinder someone."

There was a pause in the conversation; a pause that gave Luka the time to feel tired again.

"Listen, Dr. Kovac, I just heard my flight being called so it seems that I must go," his voice was reluctant, as though he was holding onto the past and, even more than that, a friend, "but it was good to talk to you again."

"Definitely. Don't hesitate to call me, or to look me up if you're ever in Chicago," Luka nodded, and moment later he was hanging up the phone after a friendly good bye. He was beginning to hate all of the friends that he'd had and lost, but one thing still remained: he still had friends. But he still loved that he could still love.

Nothing would ever change that.

_Nothing._

----

He stepped out of his SUV and into the surprising heat of the Chicago sky, glancing around the paved parking lot around him to attempt to count the cars. He couldn't bare to count them when he realized that the parking lot was packed, and he was proud in the fatherly kind of way – proud that many people would show up to their kids soccer game. It was a pleasing emotion to know that many people in Chicago truly did care about their children.

Of course, he technically had no right to be there nor did he have rights to contain that feeling. He just couldn't help it. He'd been proud of the boy all along.

He ventured across the parking lot and towards the set of green jerseys gathering onto the field for the start of the game. The sweat had already started to boil and he had already begun to regret choosing the long sleeved button up shirt to put on with his jeans. He hadn't realized it was so warm outside.

He sided up to the bleachers that the parents he'd came to recognize were sitting on, but he'd gone completely unnoticed. He didn't need to be noticed. Sam was there, after all, it was her son, but with her there – there really wasn't a need for him to be there.

He stopped in his step, fixing the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. He had to stand right where the sun would be in his eyes, but he quickly thanked God that he could afford a good pair of sunglasses.

He watched Alex dribble the soccer ball down the field, moving accurately and with trained poise easily, and he found it as a great comfort to know he could still be there for him without the boy ever truly knowing.

He leaned his shoulder against the metal bleachers, his shades gracing his face to block the sun from his vision, as he stood a great distance from the field. He really didn't want Sam to know that he was there; she didn't need to know because it wouldn't make a difference. At least, he didn't think that it made a difference.

Luka wiped the sweat from his jaw line dripping down the side of his face and making displeasing dew on his sideburns. He peered up into the stands momentarily, spotting Sam sitting quietly in the crowd and nearly alone, and he wished deep down that he could make her feel like she wasn't so alone. Whether she said it or not, he knew her, therefore he knew that she was feeling alone in a crowd.

He sighed deep into the back of his throat, already regretting his decision before he'd even stepped around the bleachers to climb them.

He forced his legs to carry him up the length of the bleachers, and smiled at Sam politely as he sat himself by her side. He propped a leg up on the bleacher seat in front of him and rested his chin in his hand as he rested his elbow against his upper thigh. If that's the way it was going to be…

He didn't dare say anything to her as her mouth nearly dropped open in shock at the sight of him, aside from the fact that he'd braved going to sit beside her, and he carried on with watching Alex chase the ball on the field.

She arched an eyebrow and forced her voice to leave her lips, "hey…What are you doing here?"

His head turned at the sound of her voice, and he shrugged nonchalantly as he took his eyes off of the game in front of him.

"I came to watch Alex play," he offered her a smile, but it didn't seem to ease her shock. "And I saw you up here and thought you looked a little lonely; so, I figured I'd come join you."

"Aw, you didn't have to do that," she still seemed nervous to talk to him, but she was slowly relaxing.

"I know that I didn't have to," he watched her as she almost had a very angry glare cross her face, but he spoke before she continue to take offense to anything he could say, "but I wanted to."

She smiled wide as her smile seemed to touch the corners of her eyes. He could tell that she was suddenly glad that she'd never left Chicago. If anything else, it was good to know that he'd always be there for Alex.

He looked over at her briefly, and he decided that it was a time for new beginnings.


	9. Chapter 9

She stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest, holding her coat tight around her in the slight breeze, and glanced at Luka, patiently waiting beside her as Alex sat in his team circle while the coach quickly went over the game with them before releasing them to go home, and her eyes reluctantly went back to the path that his eyes were locked on. She'd never met a man so willing and ready to love her son, and even more so, she could see in his eyes how much in love with her son he was. It almost made her jealous, but she ignored for reasons that she was unwilling to explain to even herself.

She hated how even though he had a sleepless night, she could tell just by looking at him, he still looked good – proud. She saw a look of love in his eyes, and she was amazed by the beautiful sparkle that was held in them. She was surprised that any man could look at her son like that, considering that his own father didn't even look at him that way.

She didn't understand how so many people could find him so imperfect when she saw him to be the most perfect thing on earth. But when she looked at Luka, she saw that he felt it too and it tore her apart inside to know that she was taking both, man and young man, away from that feeling. She had taken the chance away when she had chosen to never want what he wanted.

Alex's team made one last chant before the huddle broke apart and he took off in the direction of his mother and Luka. He wasn't expecting to see Luka, so he was initially left shocked at the sight of the grown man who had once been his best friend, and he was immediately more inclined to give him the first attention. It's what men do – or, at least, that's what he thought.

Luka smiled wide and pride as he pushed his fists into his hips, the creases in his skin tight from the pressure, and he hardly remembered Sam at his side. He loved her, and he had once wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer until their bodies were touching, but now it was just a distant memory. Besides, it was the time for him to see Alex – for him to love Alex.

"Hey, buddy. Excellent game," Luka smiled, pulling his hand from his hip and stretching it out to give Alex a victory pat. Alex immediately gave Luka a five, ignoring his mother without hesitation, and he became focused on him. "You're still the fastest one out there."

"Yeah," Alex shrugged, finally glancing at his mother and seeing she had his bag, "it didn't do any good though."

"Ah, you still played well."

Alex dully noted that Luka normally always said that, as though it was routine and not true, but he still blew it off with a shrug.

"You did," Sam quickly agreed when she noticed Alex's hesitation. She reached out and ruffled his hair as the three turned in unison to walk from the field with the other families – except, they weren't a family – and she nearly stopped in her step when she felt Luka's hand on her shoulder, until she noticed him grabbing Alex's bag from her by the strap. "You always do play well."

"I guess so."

Sam sighed as she watched her son take a step away from her, and she watched further on as she saw Alex and Luka begin to engage in their old banter. She reached deep into her pocket and pulled her keys out, clutching them tight in her hand as struggled a good four feet behind the two guys who had been very close with her – and, secretly, as far as she concerned, were still very close with her.

She was beginning to speak to draw Alex's attention to her, but stopped when Luka stopped and Alex rapidly turned around.

"Mom, can I go with Luka?" He almost immediately jumped in his spot, but he contained himself, surprisingly. "Please…He doesn't have to work today and he said we can play video games and eat pizza and watch movies."

"Yeah, Mom, please," Luka smiled and nodded behind her.

Sam's eyes immediately went to Luka and she almost glared at him a raised eyebrow and a cocked jaw, but her face faltered.

She hated the look that he was giving her. His bottom lip pushed out, his hand wrapped tightly around the strap of the bag, and his other hand in his pocket. She hated it, because it had gotten her every time.

"Fine," she sighed, playfully rolling her eyes. This was the step forward, wasn't it? Letting them be guys without her – letting them be without her. "Okay, Dr. Kovac, you know what to do if he misbehaves. You know…"

Sam," his spoke deep into the back of his throat, his accent seeming to grind hard against his vocal chords, and he reached out to touch her shoulder. His hand seemed to envelope her whole shoulder, and, even though it had been only a good 48 hours ago, she hadn't forgotten what it was like to feel his hands on her. "I know what to do."

"You're right, I'm sorry," she conceded under the mixture of his grasp and his gaze, and she smiled politely as her apology. She closed her eyes briefly, laughing at herself, and she brushed a loose stand of curly hair away from her face. When she opened her eyes with her hand divulged in her hair, she noticed the twitch of his hands just inches from her face as he refrained from reaching out to do it for her – it was always something he'd preferred to do for her. "Have fun. Call me around 4."

"Okay," Luka nodded as Alex did the same, and they both turned to walk away.

She stood still watching them as they disappeared into the crowd, and she sighed, slightly exasperated with herself. She walked to her car, finding herself practically forced to spend the day alone. What was she to do now?

She was tired of this. This wasn't how she imagined a break up would be. But then again, he'd always surprised her.

She imagined that a break up would be full of hatred that he would barely be able to look at her for even a moment in time. She imagined that a break up would be full of hurtful words and icy glares that would send her running straight to hell. She imagined that they'd never speak again and he'd never look at her the way he used to and that he'd never spend time with Alex.

But the break up was nothing like she imagined.

They didn't even come close to hating each other; they still loved each other.

She walked quickly to her car to get away from the crowd and from the sight of him. But the car line was backed up, and when she climbed in and started her car, she looked up to see him staring at her from the driver's seat. No longer than they had locked eyes had he broken the gaze by putting on his sunglasses, but she could still tell that he was looking at her.

She had always known.

He finally passed her, but his car even seemed reluctant to do so, and she let herself relax back into the seat. She didn't know what she was doing anymore. She loved him, they both knew it, but she knew that she just had to move on.

That's what she had to do. She had to move on; quit thinking about him.

She pulled the car into drive, and pressed her foot to the metal to take off into the relatively empty parking lot. She hated that she loved him, and she was done. But she'd never be able to turn herself off like that – once she loved him, she knew she always would.


	10. Chapter 10

Luka looked across the stable patent over at Sam and his voice was caught in his throat, hanging onto the very edge of his vocal chords. He swallowed, hoping that would push it down, and handed the chart back over to her to place into the rack. He was confused as to what was going on between them, and he was begging for a redefining moment.

She silently dropped the chart into the chart rack, and checked the banana bag. The fluids dripped properly, and she squinted tightly to see just how much was left. The only thing that she'd allow to be on her mind was work, but it was hard to focus with the man that God had blessed beyond reason standing across from her. She was trying.

He offered her a smile as he turned on his heel and found the gap in the curtain to pull it around to reveal the rest of the ER. He paused, his hand tugging almost too sharply on the curtain, and cleared his throat. He was confused; he kissed her, they had sex, she kissed him – he didn't know where they stood.

He ripped open the curtain and was immediately met with an overflow of light. Almost turning back to her, he stumbled in his step and almost laughed aloud at himself. Either, he was feeling like a klutz or his head was just somewhere else.

"Thank you," he barely heard her, and he jumped slightly when he felt her hand lightly at the small of his back. He never noticed how sensitive his skin was when she touched it, but he was by far coming more aware of the effects she'd had on his body. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and pursed his lips. "Alex had a good time."

He nodded, almost immediately, and let his eyes draw back to the floor. He had to look away from her because she looked beautiful with her hair up behind her head and the two strands of curly hair framing around her face. He was stupid. _Stupid_.

"Oh, yeah, no problem; I had a good time too," he finally looked up and offered her a polite and reassuring smile, realizing that he only seemed to smile out of politeness anymore. They seemed to be standing in the middle of the hustle of the ER, but there wasn't a triage in sight. "Listen, Sam…"

She shook her head lightly, but he lifted his hand to play with loose strand of hair even though he wasn't sure that he should. His eyes locked on hers and he stepped forward slightly, leaning backward a bit, his knee lightly grazing across her thigh. He barely noticed the contact, but she tensed a bit and that's when he knew that she had, to no avail, noticed completely.

"Luka, you can't," she shook her head again, reaching up and grabbing his hand. Her thumb pressed deep into his palm as her fingertips tightened around the back of his hand, and she pulled it down from her face ignoring when his fingertips grazed down the side of her face. "We can't do this anymore. We need to move on."

That's when he first noticed how much she was hurting too – how much she loved him back.

"Sam," he caught her by the wrist as she turned on her heel, unwilling to let go of her until he'd gotten his last word. He shuffled his feet forward, and he saw her eye to eye as they faced each other in the middle of the moving ER staff. "We need to talk."

"Yeah, we probably do," she conceded willingly and quickly, leaving him surprised. She locked eyes with him, her gaze piercing into his and making her reach up to her forehead to wipe her brow. "Not here, okay?"

"Tonight – over dinner," he suggested, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets. "We can talk."

"Yeah."

Her reply was hesitant but sure. She turned on her heel away from him to go and do the rounds of medication on her patients. What was she doing?

She was stupid. She was definitely stupid. _Stupid_.

----

Her hands smoothed down her dress as she cautiously stepped into the packed restaurant, but she found it surprisingly quiet for just how filled it was. She found herself being quickly led towards a table with a hunched over body, until the host spoke to him to bring his thoughts around. He looked up, and saw her.

"Dr. Kovac, your guest is here."

"Thank you," Luka stood politely as she took the seat across form him, and her eyes openly traveled down his body. He watched the host walk away before his eyes slowly traveled back to Sam, offering her a smile. "Hey."

He really didn't think he could get away with wearing that – if he did, he was obviously insane. She didn't know how she could tell him what she thought would be best for them if he'd keep looking at her like that. This was too insane.

"How was work?" The first question, just like it always seemed to be, only because she couldn't think of another thing to say to him. She couldn't think of anything that could make this easier. "I know how it was for me, but how was it for you?"

"Stayed busy," he shrugged, showing her his disinterest.

"Okay," she sighed inwardly and lifted the menu in front of her face, beginning to wonder why she'd even given the dinner thing a chance. It was a bad idea – a stupid idea – and she knew it, but sometimes she just couldn't say no to him. She hated that.

Her eyes scanned over the meal options, and wandered to the price of the meals. Her eyes bugged out and she shook her head; she knew that there wasn't any way that she could afford dinner. She'd eat a salad or something and then eat some of the leftovers in fridge at home.

She set the menu down on the table, closed, and reached forward to take a sip from the water glass in front of her.

"I wanted to talk, Sam," he seemed to finally whip something up to say to her, as his eyes seemed to trace her bare shoulders while they shined beneath the lights. His eyes scanned over her furthermore, noticing her muscular and tan arms; her arms were tan from the summer and were rearing into the break of fall. "You know? About stuff."

"Is it always going to be like this, Luka?"

Her question caught him off guard, and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. She rolled her eyes and sighed in slight exasperation, settling back into the chair to possibly escape him. She wanted to be as far away from him as possible, all the while continuing to be as close as she was.

"Like what?" He fiddled with the table cloth hanging just above his lap, his thumbs smoothing over the cotton material with his hands interlocked. He didn't know that it was going to be as hard as it was being. He just wanted to…He didn't even know anymore.

"Like this, Luka. You only want to talk to me after we've decided that things don't work," she turned in her seat, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Now, she was just acting childish, and she, honestly, didn't care who noticed. She could see his jaw tighten out of the corner of her eye, and she knew that she'd finally gotten a response from him – almost half a year later.

"**We** didn't decide anything," he groaned out loud, capturing a small audience from the tables positioned around theirs. His eyes narrowed at her, and his jaw clenched tighter. "**You** decided that we wouldn't work. **You** decided that we wanted different things. **You** _decided_."

"Fine then, _I_ decided, but we do want different things. You want to have kids, and I don't want anymore. Alex is more than enough for me, and I'm sorry that I can't be the one to give you what you want, but –"

"Sam, stop," he sighed, looking down at the table and tracing it with his worn eyes. He didn't know how to tell her, let alone where he should start. "Maybe that's what we need to talk about then."

"There isn't anything to talk about anymore."

"Fine then, we don't talk about it. I talk about it. I'm not asking for you to be okay or for you to change your mind, I'm asking that you hear me out," he breathed in deep hoping to force all of the anger out of him. He barely saw her nod before he sighed and turned his body away from her. Is that what they've come to? Unwanted tension between them from just across the table, and both were unwilling to move any further because they still wanted to be close. "I want – "

"You don't know what you want," she interrupted rather icily.

"I do know what I want, Sam," he growled in the back of his throat. He wanted to jump across the table and strangle her, metaphorically speaking.

"Took you long enough," she glared at him from across the table, and once she saw him begin to slouch dejectedly she immediately felt guilty. She sighed, making that her apology over actual words.

"Look, okay, I don't want kids," he pursed his lips together tightly, leaning forward until his chest hit the edge of the table. He hoped that he could get through to her, and his eyes narrowed deep, deep into her soul. "I don't want them if I can't have them with you."

"How can you say that?" She growled at him in the back of her throat, her eyes darkened and angrily looking into his. She pushed her tongue into her cheek, teasing the tears in her gums that she'd made from many times of keeping herself to just that – herself. "How can you be so fucking sure?"

"Because, Sam, I still love you," his voice was soft, seeing in her eyes that her heart seemed to soften. It was hardly unexpected; after all, it had only been a few months and they hadn't been completely apart in that time either. It was getting too complicated for words.

"We've been through so much shit, Luka," she was losing all ability to hold her words to a smaller rating, and that made her feel guilty for knowing that he'd finally shared himself with her.

"That doesn't change that I still love you."

_But she was no longer sure if that was enough. _


	11. Chapter 11

Sam angrily marched out into the ambulance bay, her arms swinging to keep her angry pace quicker than her normal pace. She passed by many paramedics who seemed to be lounging against the back end of their rigs, but her cold stare didn't falter from the wall ahead. She wouldn't remove her fixed stare from her destination; it wouldn't have been any good.

She was so focused, that she didn't hear her keys drop to the ground, and she would have kept walking if she hadn't heard a voice call after her.

"Miss," the voice was a heavy Irish accent, and it immediately caught her attention. She turned on her heel and gave the man who had called out to her a sharp glare that wasn't really intended for him. Her jaw was cocked so tight that she almost forgot that she was looking at an innocent bystander.

"Yes?" Her question was deep in the back of her throat as the anger was present in her tone. Her face and body stance faltered, and she offered him the gentlest tone that she could muster. Her attitude almost made a total one-eighty. "I'm sorry…What's up?"

"You just," he chuckled deep into the back of his throat, "you dropped your keys."

She looked at him for the first time, and her anger towards Luka seemed to totally disappear. He was a very good-looking man. He was tall, not quite as tall as Luka or even John Carter, but he was still tall standing just a few feet from her. He was dressed nicely, like James Bond wondering the streets of the United States.

His black suit and white dress shirt fit his form carefully, giving him compliments and eliciting every inch and centimeter of him. His hair was a chocolate brown with caramel streaks lightly tainting it, and his eyes matched the color of his hair – they were dark. He had stubble on his face as though he'd been too rushed to stop and check himself in the mirror.

All of that together made him even more attractive; it made her believe that he was handsome without ever knowing it.

He smiled knowingly as she eyed him, and he let her as though he was used to it. He would be reluctant to admit that he was doing the same, openly taking her in. He wasn't used to American girls, especially one so naturally beautiful.

"Thank you," she offered him a smile, once regaining her composure, as she reached out and took her keys from his hand.

Her fingertips brushed across his skin, and her eyes drifted down to his hand. He turned to walk away as he slid his hand back into his pocket, but she reached out and caught his attention by brushing her hand across his arm. He turned to look at her as she dropped her keys into her scrub top pocket, and she fumbled with words to say to him.

"Are you – are you a doctor here? Going to be a doctor here?"

"Uh, no, actually," he looked down to the ground, scuffing the ground with the toe of his shoe as though he was a caught little schoolboy, "I'm an Associate Professor at another hospital."

"So, you're a doctor at Mercy?" She furrowed her eyebrows, completely confused.

"No, I'm Howard Wallace from 'Doctors without Borders' over in Kisangani," his accent seemed to captivate her again, and she silently cursed herself for being so easy to fool. If she were trapped in a room with him and Luka, she'd die of an accent induced heart attack. "I'm a friend of Dr. Carter and Dr. Kovac."

"Oh," she breathed out in a sigh, pursing her lips together. She stood, silently contemplating rather to brave going back inside or to just flee from the sight of the _blasted_ hospital. She wiped at her brow, and she decided that she held a position of authority and it would take more than a brief run in with her ex-lover to make her walk away. "Um, yeah…"

"I was actually coming by to talk to Luka…Dr. Kovac. Do you know where he is?"

"I'm not really sure. I can show you inside and get someone to help you find him," she smiled politely, rubbing his upper arm just as she would the family of a patient.

She quickly withdrew her hand, suddenly realizing what she had been doing and knowing that he realized it too, and shoved them deep into the pockets of her scrubs. The chill of the Chicago air seemed to permeate through her as it made the fine hairs on her arms, legs, and on the back of her neck stand on their ends. She shivered openly and it seemed to catch his eye.

"Are you – are you cold?" He reached out in her direction, his hand falling short of her elbow as he leaned towards her. Her eyes drifted up his face, and she stared at him with pursed lips as she was rendered speechless. He seemed alarmed by the attention she was giving him, and he stood upright as he took the sign that she was uncomfortable. "I'm kind of dead to the weather. I was in Africa for so long that I'm not longer sure when it's hot or cold."

She laughed in the back of her throat, her eyes closing momentarily, and it seemed to elicit a smile across his lips.

"I'll tell you what, I'll help you find Luka," she almost growled his name in the back of her throat, anger rushing through her bones once again at the thought of him. She glanced towards the Jumbo-Mart across the street and thought of how much she desired a good cup of caffeine. She was totally in love with coffee, "if you buy me a coffee."

"I think that I can manage a cup of coffee," he smiled, noticing her eyes dragging towards the store across the street, and he nearly laughed at her desperate appearance for a cup of coffee. He paused; his hands idly settled deep into his pockets, before he pulled his left hand out and gently pressed it against the small of her back. "This way."

She bit her bottom lip, fighting a smile, and nodded quickly.

----

She peered around the corner, after being told Luka was working on charts at his desk, and found him with his feet propped up and his shades gracing his face. She never understood how he got away with that, considering how often he really did it, but she definitely couldn't understand how he _could_ find that comfortable.

She clutched her cup of coffee tighter within her grasp, saddling up to his sleeping side, and she smiled, clearly amused, looking down at him. Regardless of how angry he made her or of how distant he always kept her, a part of her still loved him and found his sleeping form as cute as it had always been. She'd always found the pleasure of watching him sleep – it was mostly peaceful.

She hated to wake him, and she almost blindly reached forward with shaky fingertips to pull the sunglasses out from in front of his eyes. She hated that she was, once again, the one revealing the eyes behind the shades. She hated to wake him, especially since she'd left him, because she'd found it hard to bear seeing him on the days following his restless nights.

Her fingers pinched the sunglasses and pulled them from his face quickly, a quick flash of light rousing him from his gentle sleep. He didn't open his eyes as quickly as she'd expected him to, but his eyes fluttered open until he noticed her while he stretched big. She almost saw a smile through his angst-ridden eyes.

"There is a Dr. Howard Wallace here to see you," Sam glanced at him sheepishly and regretfully as he settled back down into his chair, and she set his sunglasses down on the desk in front of him. She clutched her cup again, tightly, and she pursed her lips together until his eyes fell on her.

"Okay," he had a firm nod accompany his word.

"He wanted me to get you. Says he's a friend of yours and Dr. Carter's," she pointed towards the administration desk with her thumb and his eyes slowly left her face to obediently follow in the direction she was indicating. She could see it in his eyes, he was in pain at the sight of her. "Come on. He's been waiting for a while."

She fought the urge to reach down and grab his hand to lead him. She definitely still had feelings for him, and she didn't quite know what to do with them. She had loved him – so much – but she knew that their differences were just enough to keep them apart.

"Thank you, Sam," he smiled at her politely, leaning forward until the chair practically ejected him from it. Standing to his feet, he stretched again, a tired groan eliciting from the back of his throat, and he followed the torn path of the tile floor to the administration desk.

Jerry's voice was loud and overpowering the quiet voice carrying around the ER: "I want anchovies, pineapple, pepperoni, sausage…Yeah, some of that, too."

Luka stifled a chuckle in the back of his throat so Jerry couldn't hear him as Sam slipped behind the desk in front of him to stand and start making up the nursing schedule for the next two weeks. He raised his hand at Howard, offering his greeting silently as his old doctor friend eyed the white coat from a short distance. His eyes seemed to droop low just to reveal exactly how tired he was, and he narrowed his eyes to clear the fog from his view.

"Hello, Dr. Wallace." He offered his hand out to an old friend to be shaken.

"Luka," Howard took the offered him and gave it a firm shake, "I think that we're better friends than that."

Luka and Howard laughed, both laughs holding a twinge of an accent.

"You're right," Luka conceded and chuckled softly in the back of his throat, his eyes falling to the floor in a sheepish nod. "After all of the shit we went through together over in Africa – we'd have to be on a first name basis."

Sam paused upon hearing Luka speak – she'd never heard him say that before. He rarely spoke crudely; well, he hadn't compared to what she had been used to – Steve. She listened to this man who was practically a stranger interact with Luka, and she was amused just by the sound of their voices.

"I'd suggest coffee, but I see that you already have one," Luka motioned to the Styrofoam cup full of black coffee sitting on the counter in front of Howard, and he slowly noted that his matched Sam's cup of steaming coffee. He was slowly beginning to piece it together. "Did you two?"

"Dropped my keys," she explained, monotone, without looking up form her paperwork in front of her. Luka's gaze followed behind him, and he nodded as his head slowly turned back to his visitor. A hint of jealousy passed through him, but he knew that he had no right; after all, he and Sam weren't together – and there wasn't a way that Howard could possibly know of his history with this woman.

"I see. That would explain the coffee," he, once again, smiled politely. He didn't know why he was so jealous about a steaming cup of coffee, but he knew that no explanations were needed. "Well, then – I'll give you the tour of my hospital."

"All right, that sounds good," Howard nodded in agreement, giving Luka an apologetic smile.


End file.
